


Kenabres Defenders

by aikisenshi



Series: Mala's Saga [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Demons, F/M, Wrath of the Righteous Campaign, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 07:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16114172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikisenshi/pseuds/aikisenshi
Summary: Jazeel and his wife Shari are followers of Sarenrae, living at the Temple of Sarenrae in Kenabres, front line in the Crusade against the demons escaping the Abyss through the Worldwound. Their teenage son, Calden, is eager to join the fight, but they want to protect him at all costs.





	Kenabres Defenders

The alarm came just before dawn on a Summer morning. The temple was beginning preparations for dawn services when the Sending came to the Dawnmother Zaryah, head of the Kenabres temple of Sarenrae:  _ Demon raid, alert from tower 6, stand by for details _ .

Jazeel and Shari were in their common room finishing the last few straps and buckles on each other’s armor when the door to their son’s room opened and the sleepy-eyed 15 year old emerged. He yawned and scratched at the base of one of the ebon horns that were the most prominent evidence of his part-demon heritage. He came suddenly alert when he saw the pair of them preparing for battle.

“Demon raiders seen approaching some of the farmlands.” Jazeel explained to his son as he tightened a strap on the shoulder plates of his wife’s splint-mail armor. “Our militia number has been called to respond.”

“I’ll get my gear.” Calden announced excitedly, and turned to go back to his room.

“No, Calden.” Shari said, in her firm quiet way. “You will stay here.”

Calden turned back, his expression crestfallen. “But Swordmistress Atiyeh says I am ready to join the militia.”

“Only with our permission,” Shari reminded their eager son. “You are not yet sixteen, or a squire.”

“I can fight better than any squire,” Calden insisted, folding his arms across his chest, his temper rising. Jazeel knew that part of his son’s frustration, as always, stemmed from their inability to find someone able, or more usually, willing, to take Calden as a squire since his elderly grandfather died five years ago.

“Why won't you let me go with you?” Calden demanded, not quite managing to keep a youthful whine out of his voice.

“You are not ready, and not well-enough known in the city’s forces.” Jazeel sighed as his wife handed him his scimitar, “We do not want to risk you being mistaken for an enemy. It is the same reason that I fight in human disguise, Calden, despite the advantage I would gain if I had use of my wings.”

“Well, at least you  _ have _ that option, to pretend to be human all the time.” Calden shouted, pointing accusingly at his father, his prehensile tail thumping the doorframe in frustration. “I don't. I’m stuck looking like this forever! The only way anyone defending this city is  _ going _ to get to know me is if I go out there and fight beside them.”

“And you will, son, next year.” Shari said consolingly as she buckled on her scimitar belt and swung her light steel shield onto her back.

Calden stomped into his room and slammed the door behind him.

“We love you, Calden.” Shari called through the door, concern marring her beautiful face.

“Yeah, sure.” Came his muffled voice from inside.

“He’ll get over it, Shari, we must go.” Jazeel said, wishing his son could better accept their reluctance to let him fight.

The skirmish had lasted most of the morning, with the demon raiders erratically attacking the defenders head on, then suddenly vanishing to reappear somewhere else in the nearby farmlands, burning the crops and destroying the livestock that helped feed the armies of Crusaders camped in and around Kenabres. The defenders were whittling them down, though, the demon raiders were appearing in fewer and fewer numbers as the morning continued into midday. The vrock leading the raid had been glimpsed once or twice, but it was very good at disappearing as soon as any defenders got near.

Jazeel and Shari were set as the head of one of multiple scouting teams sent to search the farmhouses and barns in the area the demons seemed to be focusing on.

“What do we have, love?” Shari murmured as they approached a barn.

Jazeel focused on the area before them, using his innate ability to sense the presence of conscious thought.

“There's something in there…” Jazeel concentrated for a while longer. “Nothing intelligent, probably cows.”

“We should check inside anyway.” Shari replied, continuing towards the barn, waving a hand for the quartet of young paladins to follow.

“Are you doubting my powers, love?” Jazeel whispered teasingly, leaning close to his wife.

“No, I just don't want to leave anything behind, besides, most demons can hardly be considered intelligent,” she snipped.

“Well, lucky for you, you married one of the intelligent ones.” He whispered back as they approached the barn door.

“I never said that.” Shari smirked.

“Ouch,” said Jazeel, and pulled open the barn door.

“You should listen to your mate more often...” Came a voice from the darkness within, followed by the screeching of demonic laughter.

“Ambush!” Shouted one of the young paladins behind Jazeel.

A flock of small impish demons swarmed out of the darkness towards the defenders, a larger demon, a vulture-headed winged vrock, emerged from the shadows close behind, driving the quasits onward.

Jazeel dodged the lesser demons and charged towards the vrock. A bolt of electricity shot out of the demon’s hand and crashed over Jazeel, but shattered and dissipated as it met his innate resistance to magic.

“What have we here?” the demon hissed, dodging Jazeel’s scimitar swipe and leaping to hang from the barn’s rafters.

Another spell shot forth, enveloping Jazeel in a burst of flames, he heard Shari shout his name in alarm.

“I’m OK, Shari,” Jazeel said, stepping out of the fire, his armor singed, but his body not seriously hurt. “I’ve got this one, go help the others.”

Shari nodded and backed out of the barn.

“Jazeel?” The vrock squawked delightedly. “Oh, my Lord has been looking for you for a long time, traitor, he has offered great rewards!”

“He’s welcome to come visit me in Kenabres, any time,” Jazeel taunted, “I’d love to watch the Wardstone’s aura burn him to ash.”

“Why does it not burn Jazeel, I wonder,” the vrock mused.

“Because I’m too pure of heart.” Jazeel smirked, knowing in truth it was his magical amulet that protected him from the Wardstone’s demon-bane aura. It was given to him by Terendelev (Kenabres’ silver dragon guardian) many years ago. When Jazeel had proven to her that he was truly redeemed and could be trusted in the city.

“Ah, that is right,” the demon sneered. “Jazeel is the incubus who thinks  _ true love _ will save him from damnation.”

“Couldn't hurt.” Jazeel shrugged, shifting his scimitar to his left hand and picking up a nearby pitchfork, wondering how well it would fly if he threw it at the vrock.

“Oh, but yes, it could...” the demon said, beginning what Jazeel recognized as preparations to teleport himself.

Jazeel threw the pitchfork, hoping to break the demon’s concentration, but missed. The demon vanished, leaving behind an echoing laugh.

A second later, he heard a scream from outside the barn, it was Shari’s voice! Jazeel rushed to the door.

Outside, it was chaos, the imps were starting to overwhelm the defenders. They were standing with their backs to the barn, surrounding a paladin who was on the ground -- merely unconscious, Jazeel hoped.

“Report!” he snapped. “Where is Shari?”

“The vrock grabbed her, flew yonder, then dropped her from the air,” a young paladin reported, pointing to a nearby field of low-growing crops.

“A call for aid has been sent to the main force, no reply yet.” Added a female cleric.

“Ja-zeeel!” came a taunting, sing-song call from beyond the flock of quazits.

At the edge of the chaos, the demon was coming to a landing, a dazed-looking Shari was sprawled on the ground in front of him. Her helm lay a few feet from her on one side, her shield and scimitar on the other where they had fallen from her grasp. Jazeel charged through the swarm towards his wife, cleaving a quasit in two with his scimitar as he ran.

The vrock cackled, hauling Shari up by her hair so that she was kneeling limply in front of him, facing Jazeel. The demon held her with his claws poised to tear out her throat. “Beg for her life, incubus!” he called.

Jazeel skidded to a halt a dozen feet away,

“Hold,” he shouted, “I submit!”

He carefully laid down his scimitar and raised his hands, not taking his eyes off the demon, trying desperately to stall him by playing to his greed.

“You can take me back to your Lord and claim your reward. Leave her alone, and I will go willingly. Harm her and you get nothing.” Jazeel hoped his desperation wasn't creeping into his voice. He saw Shari begin to come to her senses again and start struggling against the demon’s grip.

The vrock laughed triumphantly.  “Hah! You’ve been away from the Abyss too long, incubus! My Lord’s reward isn't for bringing you home… It’s for causing you anguish by destroying anything and anyone you  _ love _ .”

A jagged humanoid shape suddenly slid out of the vrock’s shadow. As its dark form coalesced, Jazeel’s heart stopped, he recognized the babau assassin Mangvhune. Long ago, Jazeel had delivered countless contracts to him at the behest of his Lords.

Time seemed to slow as the babau raised a dagger formed out of pure darkness. Jazeel started to move forward, but something was hindering his movements. Mangvhune plunged the dagger into Shari’s heart, she screamed as her soul was severed from her body. Jazeel’s own anguished howl shifted from panic to rage as the babau turned and grinned at him.

_Nocticula sends her regards, Jazeel,_ the babau sent telepathically. _Your debt to her is paid. As for the other Lords you’ve angered, She leaves you to their own ‘mercies’._

The demon assassin gave Jazeel a mocking bow and vanished into shadow once more.

“Nooo!”

The scream still echoed in Jazeel’s throat as he charged the only target left, the demon still holding his wife's limp body. Jazeel dropped his human disguise. His wings appeared with a leathery snap as his form shifted and he leapt towards the vrock in a haze of fury and anguish.

In an instant, Jazeel’s hands were closing towards the demon’s throat, it cackled as it dropped Shari’s body and writhed, slipping free of Jazeel’s grasp and launching itself into the air. He did not get far, Jazeel leapt after him. He entangled the demon’s feet with his tail and caught hold of a black feathered wing. Jazeel slammed a fist into the demon’s side, knocking it out of the air and back into the ground with a crunch of shattering bones.

The demon’s cackle started to wheeze, it rolled out of the way as Jazeel came down out of the air. It got to its feet, beginning to attempt another spell, Jazeel didn't give it a chance. Jazeel’s fist swung towards the demon’s head. The demon dodged the first blow, but missed the second, which connected with his birdlike jaw with a crack. The demon staggered back, dazed by the pain suddenly wracking his entire body, and Jazeel dove at him, fingers closing around the demon’s neck as he slammed it to the ground.

The demon still tried to laugh as his throat was crushed beneath Jazeel’s hands. He flailed, clawing at Jazeel’s arms and face, drawing slashes of dark demonic blood from Jazeel’s grey skin. Yet Jazeel held on, strangling the life from the demon’s body, feeling a dark pleasure as he continued slamming the demon’s head against the ground again and again. The demon’s struggling stopped and yet Jazeel continued to vent his rage and pain on the mangled body. Still hearing its mocking cackle mingled with Shari’s scream as she died.

Dimly, Jazeel became aware of someone calling his name, the haze of rage cleared enough for him to recognize the voice of one of the paladins under his command.

“It's dead, M-master Jazeel--.” The paladin’s voice cut off with a gulp as Jazeel released the corpse and turned on her. His eyes still blazed red with wrath, demon blood splattered across his unnaturally handsome features. The paladin raised her shield in defense, the holy symbol of Sarenrae emblazoned there briefly reflecting the Summer sun. The light blinded Jazeel, he reflexively covered his eyes, all he could see for a moment was the glowing after-image of the goddess he had pledged his life to so many years ago. Jazeel took a deep shuddering breath and collapsed onto one knee, bowing his head as he struggled to regain control of himself. He slowly shifted back to his human disguise, forcefully reminding himself he was not that demon any more.

“Reinforcements are here, sir,” the armored woman said to him hesitantly. Most of Sarenrae’s worshippers at the temple: clergy, laypeople and paladins, knew him, he was a teacher and master alchemist and herbalist there. Very few knew Jazeel’s secret. Witnessing his transformation was undoubtedly a shock to her, she had been courageous to even approach him in his rage.

“Sister Geraldine is tending to the wounded.” The paladin said as Jazeel stumbled to his feet, rubbing at his eyes as they cleared.

Jazeel looked up to see the kindhearted healer kneeling beside Shari’s body, examining the damage with expert eyes. Jazeel approached her, his heart breaking anew as he saw his love’s lifeless body.

“Please say you can bring her back, Sister.” Jazeel whispered, choking back tears as he helped the healer arrange the body into a more restful pose, closing the staring, lifeless eyes.

“I will try, but it still must be the goddess’ will, Jazeel, you know that.”

Jazeel nodded as the sister retrieved the components for the ritual. She began to recite the prayer, and the initial steps began, repairing the damage to the body. The bruised skin faded and the knife wound started to close, but stopped. The sister’s chant faltered, and she shook her head.

“What? What's wrong?” Jazeel asked frantically.

“I don't know, the ritual is not taking hold, this is beyond my power, we must take this to the Dawnmother.”

\--

Jazeel carried Shari’s shrouded body the eternity-spanning distance back to Kenabres, he refused any help or solace.

The Dawnmother herself, one of the most powerful clerics in Kenabres, had not been able to bring Jazeel’s wife back to life. After her own failed attempts at resurrection rituals, Dawnmother Zariyah had communed with Sarenrae. She was informed that a magical effect of the weapon wielded by the assassin was hindering their attempts to reunite Shari’s soul with her body.

“I am sorry, Jazeel,” she had told him then. “Even if we found a way past this effect, Shari’s spirit has passed on into the River of Souls, her time in this world is over, her soul awaits Judgement by Pharasma.”

Jazeel’s heart had truly broken then, his tears had flowed freely, sobs wracking him as he held Shari’s rapidly-cooling body, wondering if he would ever feel her warmth again. Most mortals wondered at the fate of their souls after death, but none truly worried about their immortality like he did. No one really knew what would happen to Jazeel when he died. He was formed out of abyssal matter fused with the energy of a soul that had lived a mortal life, been judged by the Lady of Graves, and sent to the abyss for its crimes. Would his good acts in this new corrupted form of life give him a chance to be judged again? He had left the Abyss under his own power rather than a magical summons, if he died on this plane the energy invigorating his body would be destroyed, lost forever into nothingness. He could only continue to be faithful to Sarenrae and have faith that his goddess would intercede at his death, and allow him to one day see Shari again.

By the time Jazeel and the other defenders made it back to the temple, carrying their dead and wounded, he was empty of tears, emotionally and physically numb. He laid Shari’s body on the summer grass in the wide courtyard at the center of the temple complex, feeling like nothing could ever pierce the haze of sorrow surrounding him--.

“No! Mother!”

Then Jazeel heard his son’s anguished cry, and his heart found a new depth of sorrow.

Jazeel turned in time to catch Calden in his arms as his son ran to the shrouded form of his mother.

“She is gone, Calden,” Jazeel told him.

“No!” Calden yelled, struggling to reach his mother’s body. “The Dawnmother, she can bring her back, I’ve seen her do it!”

“She tried, Calden,” Jazeel murmured, turning his son to face him. “It didn't work. She was killed by a babau assassin, something he did blocked her soul from returning.”

“This is your fault!” Calden spit, pushing himself away from his father. “If you had let me go with you, I could have protected her!”

“You’d just be dead too!” Jazeel yelled. “You wouldn't have been able to stop the assassin.”

“You don't know what I can do, you’ve never really watched me training, I could have protected her.”

“No, you couldn't, Calden. The assassin killed her for no other reason except that she was loved by me, he would have killed you just as quickly.”

“I could have saved her!” Calden screamed, and drew his weapons and attacked.

The suddenness of Calden’s rage caught Jazeel off guard, his instincts took over, he shifted to his demon form for the second time that day. He dodged Calden’s initial wild swing, and slammed a fist into his upper arm, causing him to drop one scimitar. Calden spun, slashing at his father with the other scimitar, Jazeel caught Calden’s wrist and plucked away the weapon. Jazeel tugged on the wrist, pulling his son off balance towards himself. He wrapped an arm around Calden’s upper body, pinning Calden’s arms to his sides and holding him against his chest in a tight embrace.

“Damn it, Calden, stop this,” he yelled. “I’m sorry. I failed to protect your mother. I know you are angry and hurting, but at least you know you will be able to see her again. This life is all I’ve got, I can't lose you too. I’ve got to protect you, if any agents of my former Lords know that you are my son--.”

Calden twisted himself free from his father’s embrace. “You don't have to worry about that,” he growled, backing away. “No one will  _ ever _ know who my father was, I’m forgetting it myself!”

Calden turned and ran from the atrium, leaving Jazeel to collapse to the ground next to his wife's corpse. He pulled his bestial legs up to his chest, let his head fall down onto on his knees. He wrapped himself in his wings, folding them up around his head, blocking his view of the chaos around him as the temple denizens reacted to a full blooded incubus sitting in the center of Sarenrae’s temple courtyard. He rocked in silence, oblivious to the world.

“Jazeel,” came the calm but forceful voice of Dawnmother Zaryah, and the light touch of a cool hand on his wing. “Listen to me, my son.”

The incubus flinched away and curled into a tighter ball of misery.

“Jazeel, you need to return to human form, your amulet only partially damps the Wardstone’s effects when you are in your true form, your skin is starting to burn.”

“I don't care,” Jazeel muttered, parting his wings and raising his head crowned with large twisting black horns. His handsome face was dead, devoid of emotion. He looked the Dawnmother in the eye and pulled the amulet out from under his chain shirt. He made a movement as if to tear it from his neck, exposing himself to the full force of the Wardstone’s aura, it would kill him in seconds.

“Hold!” the Dawnmother commanded, her word containing a holy spell that froze Jazeel in place. She knelt on the grass in front of the incubus and gently tried to pry the amulet from his hand.

“You are needed here, Jazeel, do not cause the Wardstone to destroy you. I know you are in pain, Calden is too. He will recover, in time, and he will need you to be here, alive and well.”

Jazeel released the amulet and bowed his head, shifting back to his human form with a sob. Dawnmother Zaryah placed a hand on his head and whispered a prayer, healing his burned skin. As the blisters faded, she prayed again, this time for solace for her friend, as she wrapped her arms around the broken-hearted demon and held him closely as he cried.


End file.
